


Wait, that's not what happened... Mango #2

by disaster_imp, MajorTrouble



Series: Mambo #5 [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Lambert doesn't even swear in this I just can't resist a pun, M/M, Watch your Lambert there are children present, dating show, no beta we die like monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disaster_imp/pseuds/disaster_imp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble
Summary: Jaskier's best friend Essi convinces him to sign up for a dating show while they're both wasted.For once, it's not Jaskier creating the drama.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Mambo #5 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100123
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Wait, that's not what happened... Mango #2

Hold on. Pause. _REWIND._

 _"That's not what happened,"_ Essi says with a snort, her tone the aggrieved outrage of a true bard. "The real story is this..."

_Jaskier looked around the green room nervously. He was used to being the centre of attention, but this was different. Essi had convinced him to fill in the online profile for the dating game show - Pick and Choose - whilst they were both completely wasted. It had been fun, ridiculous even, as he’d ticked all the little boxes denoting his likes and dislikes. They’d bonded, laughing hysterically as they drank directly from the bottle of rose while writing little essays about such mundane topics as “Your favourite movie and why” and “What is your best childhood memory?”_

_To be honest, Jaskier had completely forgotten about that night when, a few months later, a network executive had called him and set up an interview for the gameshow. A panel of bored, smartly-dressed, monochromatic men and women had asked him some standard questions about his life and then some not-so-standard and rather personal questions. He’d answered in his usual way - as flippantly and sarcastically as possible, just shy of being insulting. At the end of the process, convinced he wasn’t going to be their candidate, he’d called Essi and they’d relived that raucous night, drinking the cheapest rose they could find._

_The next morning, amidst a hangover unlike any he’d had since university, Jaskier received confirmation that he would indeed be the next bachelor fielding questions on the most popular dating game show to ever come out of Cintra Studios._

_The clock on the wall above his head wasn’t nearly loud enough to drown out the blood rushing in his ears. He’d already chugged a bottle of water and was currently regretting that choice as his stomach tied itself in knots. He hadn’t been allowed to meet any of the potential matches, but he knew it was an equal group of men and women. He made absolutely no secret of his bisexuality._

_Standing suddenly, he paced around the room several times before forcing himself to sit back down in the beautiful and incredibly uncomfortable brocade armchair. In some distant, detached part of his mind he hoped that the chair on the studio stage was more comfortable. Especially if he was going to be sitting on it for an extended period of time. He ran his hands back through his hair before belatedly realizing he was undoing the hairstylist’s hard work and rubbing his sweating palms on his black jeans instead._

_Finally, after what seemed like a glacial age, the door opened and a harried intern beckoned him to follow her down the corridor. She led him through a twisting series of hallways before they emerged out onto the weirdly familiar set of Pick & Choose. It was strange how different and yet the same it all was. What looked on a TV screen like plush green carpeting was actually astroturf. The sparkling silver letters in the background that heralded the name of the game were dull and the paint slightly flaking. He was ushered into a chair that was set up on what looked like cinder blocks, to be on a level with that of the host. At least it was comfortable - the overstuffed armchair engulfing nearly enveloping him as he sat down. _

_Jaskier looked out over the bank of cameras, just able to make out the audience shuffling around in the background. He gulped nervously. How could he forget there were going to be live people here to witness this?_

_“It’s okay,” a voice murmured next to him. “You’ll be fine.” He turned to see the host of the show settling into her chair. Despite her warm voice, Tissaia had a severe look about her that challenged anyone to tell her no. Her auburn hair was piled artfully on top of her head, held in place by what Jaskier assumed was magic, as he couldn’t see anything obvious. She was wearing what on anyone else might look ostentatious - a midnight blue pantsuit with white slashes up the thighs - but on her looked regal. Eyes like a hawk pinned him in place, but the look was marred when she winked - winked - at him._

_Needless to say, Jaskier was immediately thrown off balance. He rubbed his hands on his jeans again and swallowed audibly. “Tha - thank-you, Tissaia. I ho - hope so.”_

_“I saw the tape of your interview,” she smirked before schooling her face to seriousness. “Don’t disappoint me.”_

_Before he had time to parse whatever the fuck that meant, the announcer was rambling that the show was about to start, and urged everyone to take their seats._

"Essi dear, why are you telling the children such outlandish fabrications?" Jaskier interrupts, waving his glass of wine at her. "That's not how it happened either!"

"Too right," a soft, deep voice says from over his shoulder, and Jaskier melts back into the arms of his husband. "Do we _look_ twenty-five? Jaskier has grey in his hair. _Pick and Choose,_ why do any of you watch that manufactured rubbish anyway? Didn't even exist twenty years ago. We met on a show called _Perfect Date."_

"You have no room to judge, you're the ones who met on a dating show!" Yennefer points out.

Jaskier arches an eyebrow at her. "Don't you start, you horrible witch. _So did you."_

"Wait... what?" Ciri pipes up, staring at her mother.

"Darling, how do you think I met your mother? Essi, stop talking, I can tell my own damn story. Gather round, you monsters, I am going to tell you _everything."_

"Fuck." Geralt says, burying his face in his hands and blushing red to the tips of his ears.

 _"Don't you move, mister,"_ Jaskier commands him. "You're just as complicit in this story as anyone else."

 _"Dad?!"_ Ciri squeals, delighted at this new development. Geralt sinks back into a chair, trying to make himself as small as possible. Lambert, chuckling, perches on the arm of his chair and passes him a consolation beer.

"Shut up," Geralt mutters at Lambert.

"Didn't say anything, did I? It's not my fault you're all - " Lambert waves his hands around for emphasis. "Like this. I met my husband the _normal_ way."

"Lambert," Aiden interjects, "you were so drunk you threw up on my car outside a pub, and then you demanded an explanation for why my car was parked in a bathroom. You're lucky I didn't deck you."

"Like I said. _Normal."_

"And then you climbed a two metre high statue and tried to serenade me..."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

"You fell off. I had to take you to the hospital to get stitches!"

"Because you love me."

"May I," Jaskier interrupts, his patience wearing thin, "set my own record straight?"

Lambert waves a magnanimous hand in his direction.

"Thank you. As I was saying. On a frozen winter's day, twenty years ago - "

"Twenty-one years," Eskel interrupts. Jaskier glares him into silence.

"Twenty-ish years ago," Jaskier continues, "I walked onto the set of a ... oh for fuck's sake, why don't we just watch it? I still have the tape, and darling if you don't have a vintage video player lurking around somewhere just waiting for its time in the spotlight, I'll be _extremely_ surprised. Will you set it up?"

"We're going to see you on the TV?" Lambert and Aiden’s identical twins ask in tandem, eyes wide as saucers.

"You bet," Aiden says, grinning. "It's not like the shows you watch now, though. Nineties fashion was certainly something, and your uncle Jaskier was every bit as much into the more colourful trends then as he is now." 

Eskel snorts, and Jaskier smacks his shoulder.

"Shush, you. If I'm not telling the world I'm extremely not straight, what's the _point?"_ Jaskier asks primly. 

*****

The show opens with a jingly theme song, the visuals filled with happy couples doing cute couples things. When it finishes, a voiceover announces, "Hello, you've tuned in for another episode of Purrrrfect Date! Please welcome the star of our show, Tissaia deVries!"

The host skips out from behind a wall of pastel pinks and blues, dotted with silver stars and a large heart motif. "Thank you! Thank you very much, hi everybody, hello to everyone watching from home, wherever you are on the Continent, thank you for joining us, and a special welcome to today's studio audience!" 

A camera pans across the audience to a round of cheers and hollers before the view switches back to the charismatic host.

"First up tonight, we have three new contestants for you to meet. Contestant number one is twenty-seven years old, works as a personal trainer and has an interest in outdoor sports and horses; please welcome Geralt of Rivia!"

A handsome, white-haired and much, much younger Geralt wearing skinny jeans, runners and a t-shirt so tight that it leaves exactly nothing to the imagination, steps onto the stage and shakes Tissaia's hand. 

"Geralt, tell us a little more about your interest in horses."

The young man's face lights up. "I ride, I have my own horse. Her name is Roach."

"Good stuff, take a seat, Geralt. No, in the first chair, that's it, thank you. Contestant number two is thirty years old, runs a farm and enjoys spending time with his goats. Please welcome Eskel Morhen."

The camera switches to Eskel as he enters, dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel shirt tied around his hips and work boots on his feet, neatly polished. One side of his face is livid with scars, and the audience gasps. Tissaia glares at them.

"Tell us about your goats, Eskel."

"Oh, you don't want to ask about them, you won't be able to stop me talking," Eskel says with a blush. "Lil Bleater - "

"Isn’t he sweet. Eskel, lovely to have you here. Take a seat in the next chair, please." Eskel does, and his muscular bulk barely fits. "Our final contestant tonight, number three is twenty-nine years old, a partner at prestigious local law firm Aretuza Law and lists her hobbies as... working. Sounds like fun, please make Yennefer of Vengerberg welcome."

Yennefer is dressed in stiletto heels, tight black jeans and a white shirt with a figure-hugging black blazer. Her thick black hair is styled in waves and although she, too, looks younger, she emanates the same sense of danger and confidence that she does today.

"What would you like to tell us about yourself, Yennefer?"

Yennefer gives the audience a cold once-over and turns her attention to Geralt. She waits for him to look up at her and winks at him before turning to answer the host. "Don't get on my bad side, I'm as dangerous in the bedroom as I am in the courtroom."

"Ha ha ha, that almost sounds like a threat, please take a seat in the last chair."

Geralt is watching her with interest. Yennefer, with a graceful high-heeled walk, stalks first around the back of Geralt's chair, dragging a hand along the arm suggestively, before making her way to her own seat. Eskel frowns at her.

“Now, before we bring out our celebrity date, let's have a look at him.”

The camera switches to show Jaskier, waiting to be called. It's 1999 and Jaskier, musician, is twenty-five years old and hungry to advance his music career. He's already made a name for himself in the local music scene, and he's agreed to this because Essi signed him up while he was _drunk,_ insisting that it was a bold move that could garner him national attention. He strokes his fingers across his recently acquired moustache, neatly trimmed and quite sexy, if he says so himself. He's wearing high-waisted jeans in a pale blue denim, his own band's t-shirt tucked in at the front and a shimmering pink blazer with wide, notched lapels. His hair flops down over one eye attractively, and he gives a nervous flick of his head. 

"You'll do," he says out loud to himself, attempting to convince himself as much as anybody else.

Currently, he's having second thoughts. He's sitting in what they called the green room, which is many things, but the one thing it is not, is green. A canned music version of _Mango #5_ is playing through some speakers, and the walls are papered in a modern neon pattern that isn't going to date well. Jaskier's face is plastered in too-heavy stage make-up that he's assured will look _fantastic_ on screen. 

He's right to doubt, but at least all the contestants are in the same boat. A knock at the door snaps him out of his reverie, and before he can turn the knob, the door flies open and an impatient hand beckons him forwards. Straightening his jacket and standing tall, Jaskier follows the attendant down a passageway.

"And now," echoes the voice of the show's star, "Let's introduce tonight's guest date. Jaskier is a twenty-five year old musician who's built up a bit of a following in the local music scene, and we look forward to seeing what his future holds. 

Jaskier steps obediently onto the stage at a push from behind, and Tissaia greets him like an old friend. 

"We've met your potential dates already," she tells him. "Now let's learn a little about you."

The camera cuts to a pre-recorded segment that Jaskier is pleased to see includes a shot of him singing - _oh_ Busking. And a shot of his singing telegram job. Dressed as a giant chicken. He drops his head into his hands. He's never going to be taken seriously as a musician again.

"Anything you'd like to add, Jaskier?"

"Why did you bother coming to record me performing at a gig, if you were just going to show candid shots of my less professional work?" Jaskier says, silently fuming.

"This was funnier," Tissaia grins. "Everyone has to make ends meet now, don't they?"

The audience laughs. It's going to go from bad to worse, but he's been put on the spot now. Perhaps he can still salvage something from this. He takes a deep breath, adjusts his collar with a pop, and sits on the stool provided.

"Okay, to recap the rules, Jaskier you ask the contestants on the other side of this wall a series of questions and choose your favourite answers, and at the end of the night we'll ask you to choose your perfect date."

"Jaskier, your first question is for contestant number one."

"Contestant number one. What is your favourite song, and why?" Jaskier asks. A little cliche for a musician, perhaps, but music is an important part of his life. He wants to get a feel for what his potential dates enjoy. 

A deep, clear voice responds. "Scar Tissue. Red Hot Chilli Peppers."

"And why do you like it?" Tissaia prompts.

"Uh. It was playing on the radio on my way here."

The Audience titters, and Tissaia smirks.

"Contestant number two," Tissaia continues. "What is your favourite song, and why?"

There's a delay before answering, and the camera focuses on Eskel's face, deep in thought. 

"There's a traditional song my father used to sing to me," he says slowly, "from his homeland, called Calon Lân. It starts with _I don't ask for a luxurious life, the world's gold or its fine pearls. I ask for a happy heart, an honest heart, a pure heart."_

His voice is deep and gravelly, his answer considered, and Jaskier wants to like him immediately.

Tissaia is about to speak, but the man speaks up again. "He was a good man, and I hope for the same."

Jaskier melts on the spot. He doesn't know if the man is talking about his own heart, or falling in love, but either way the sentiment is noble. 

An audible 'awww' comes from the audience.

"Admirable. Contestant number three," Tissaia continues, and Jaskier is grateful he doesn't have to find words after the last response because he's forgotten the question. "What is your favourite song, and why?" 

A sultry, feminine voice hums. "Shania Twain, That Don't Impress Me Much. You really have to stand out, if you want to impress me."

On the screen, however, it's not Jaskier behind the dividing wall that Yennefer's gaze is directed towards, but Geralt.

The audience claps noncommittally. 

"Jaskier, have a think about which answer you like the best."

"Number two," Jaskier says. He doesn't even have to think about it.

"Number two! A soft spot for family and history, eh?" Tissaia says. "All right everyone, time for a break. We'll be back after the ads."

"Advertising history, right here," Eskel quips, looking at the kids. "This is where you take a bathroom break, or get up to grab a snack. There was no Netflix in the nineties."

 _"Boring,"_ complains an interchangeable twin.

Lambert throws a bag of popcorn at the pair of them. 

"Welcome back everyone," Tissaia says, smiling with straight white teeth. Jaskier wonders how he didn't recognise their resemblance to a shark before. "Jaskier, please direct your second question to contestant number two."

Jaskier pauses a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Contestant number two. What would you say is your best asset?"

"Getting to the meat of things here, aren't we folks?" Tissaia says with a grin, the audience dutifully tittering with laughter.

The camera focuses on Eskel, who is looking decidedly unimpressed. 

"Right, well. Contestant number two? Best asset."

"I stick to my convictions, and I believe that the standard you walk past is the standard you accept. I would be paying attention to my date, instead of flirting behind his back with another entrant on a dating show." _Vicious._ The audience gives a shout and Jaskier frowns, staring at the wall, trying to see what's going on on the other side, 

Tissaia coughs.

"Well done. Contestant number three, what would you say is your best asset?"

The sultry, feminine voice purrs back. "I'm strong and decisive. I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to take it, even if there's someone sitting in the way."

Yennefer is looking right at Geralt while she says this, and he's staring back at her with undisguised lust. She licks her lips suggestively.

The audience ooh's on cue.

"Oh dear. And contestant number one, what would you say is your best asset?"

The final response comes in a deep, clear voice, and the camera pans to Geralt, who is staring at Yennefer. "Uh. My hair."

"Would you care to elaborate?" Tissaia asks. 

"It's... long."

Geralt gets another laugh from the audience.

"Ohhkaaaay. Concise, I guess. Jaskier, which answer would you choose?"

Jaskier hesitates. Dangerous women are something of a turn-on, but this one clearly has her gaze directed elsewhere. Long hair is also nice, but man, some words would be good too. Number two seems pissed off on Jaskier's behalf, ready to spring to his defence before they've even met.

"Number two," he says again.

After the second set of responses, Jaskier considers his last question, and rewords it to be deliberately ambiguous. It seems clear at this point that contestants number one and three are flirting with each other - or at least, three is. He's not sure about one, he sounds like a bit of a himbo. Who knows. He clears his throat. 

"Contestant number three, describe your ideal date."

"Long white hair, handsomely angular features, a body that looks like it could go all night," Yennefer says bluntly. Jaskier rolls his eyes.

"Rude," Eskel interjects.

 _"Contestant number one,"_ Tissaia powers on. "Describe your ideal date."

"Raven black hair and - uh - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Eskel interrupts.

"Wait your turn, farmboy," Yennefer snaps. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"Contestant number two," Tissaia overrules, almost shouting, and Yennefer sits, pouting. "Describe your ideal date."

"Not this," Eskel growls. "I want to know if the person on the other side of that wall is okay, and apologise for the clusterfuck these two assholes are making of your night."

Jaskier sighs. "It's fine. I'm kind of used to it, really. Usually people at least wait until they've _met_ me before deciding they don't like me. I suppose this saves some time."

"On that note, we're going to take a quick break and get everyone calmed down. Back soon!" Tissaia says brightly, a clenched jaw the only sign of her irritation.

 _"More ads?"_ complains one of the twins.

"More ads!" Jaskier confirms. "Welcome to last century. Eskel darling, why don't you skip through them this time? Nobody has to tip a bucket of ice water over Yennefer today."

"They can if they want to," Eskel says, speeding up the tape with the fast forward button.

"Well, welcome back to Perfect Drama," Tissaia says, to appreciative audience laughter. "Jaskier, normally we'd ask you to have a think about who you'd like to choose, but I rather suspect that's a foregone conclusion this disaster. I mean, round. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"I'm a little tempted to choose one or three, just to piss them off, but honestly, I have too much self-respect for that, they're welcome to each other. Contestant number two."

"Very good. First let me introduce you to the losing assh - contestants. Yennefer of Vengerberg, would you make your way around the wall."

Instead of stepping around the wall as instructed, Yennefer grabs Geralt's hand and pulls him along behind her. The audience laughs. 

"And the _charming_ Geralt of Rivia," Tissaia adds, without skipping a beat.

Yennefer kisses the air next to Jaskier's cheek. Masterfully, he refrains from slapping her. Geralt offers a hand that Jaskier doesn't take.

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Jaskier says, his heart falling as he sees how _beautiful_ they both are, no wonder they couldn't keep their eyes - _hands_ \- off each other. He cringes inwardly, determined to make the best of whatever consolation prize is still hiding behind the wall. He's familiar enough with the program to know that the good looks are usually sitting in his own seat - with two such stunning specimens already revealed, his chances of finding someone pretty behind the curtain were slim. _Fuck I'm shallow,_ he criticises himself. The man has been so _kind,_ and suddenly Jaskier wants there to be more. He's afraid his ego and arrogance are going to get in the way - and even if he's attracted to the man, surely someone so full of kindness is going to see straight through Jaskier and leave him in the dust. _Give it a chance,_ he tells himself sternly.

"Finally, your chosen date. Will it be true love, or true disaster?" 

"I'm already a walking disaster, I think that's a given," Jaskier quips, and the audience laughs again. Jaskier closes his eyes. _Did I just stick my foot in my mouth? Will he take offense to that? Think I'm looking for an out? Fuck._

DeVries drags the moment out, and Jaskier's fists are balling anxiously in the hem of his jacket by the time the man walks around the dividing wall. 

He's tall. Taller than Jaskier, and broad-shouldered. Jaskier doesn't hear a thing Tissaia says - the man’s name, his job, his interests, because the man he is looking at is _stunning_ , scars and all. He registers laughter coming from Geralt and Yennefer, laughter he ignores, they don't get to judge anyone else after their little stunt. Kind eyes watch him warily, and Jaskier knows, knows what they're afraid of. 

He raises his hand to the man's cheek, and the man tries to look away. Jaskier draws him back with a little pressure on his chin.

"Don't. You're gorgeous," Jaskier says softly, and the man looks up at him, eyes flashing, ready to retaliate at any sign of mockery, but his eyes meet only sincerity. 

"Don't hide from me, love." he traces a finger over the man's twisted lip. _"You are beautiful._ Inside and out."

Flashing, angry eyes turn confused, and unwilling to put the man on the spot any more than he already has, he leans forward to whisper in his ear. "I was so captivated when you stepped out from behind the wall that I didn't hear a word Tissaia said. I didn't even catch your name. May I kiss you?"

Eyes wide with wonder, the man nods his head, and meets Jaskier's lips halfway. It's careful at first, but when Jaskier parts his lips in a sigh, the other man deepens the kiss until Jaskier is gripping the man's shirt to stop his own knees from giving way. The man pulls back slightly, kissing a breathless Jaskier's cheek and whispering into his ear in a gravelly voice that sends tingles down Jaskier's spine. "Eskel. My name is Eskel."

"Eskel," Jaskier repeats softly, wide blue eyes looking into soft, warm brown ones. "Hello, Eskel."

Not to be outdone, Geralt and Yennefer are _also_ making out nearby, but Jaskier is too happy to care.

Eskel kisses him again, and the audience _roars._

Jaskier suspects he's not going to be able to wipe the soppy grin off his face for at least a week, and Essi is _never_ going to let him live this down. 

"I'm sorry, one moment," Tissaia interrupts, stepping aside to talk to a producer waving frantically at the side of the stage. She's back in seconds, a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

"All right everyone, shush, I have an announcement, personally I think it's a _terrible_ idea but our producers disagree, so here it is: _All four of you_ are going on a double date to the Winter Wonderland theme park for a weekend, including a themed dinner and overnight stay!"

"I beg your pardon?" Eskel says, scowling. 

"Ratings, darling," Tissaia purrs. 

An advertising clip of the park plays on screen, and when the camera returns to the set, it shows Jaskier and Eskel kissing again. Tissaia laughs while the audience cheers and whistles.

"Thank you for watching everyone, please join us again next week on Perfect Date, and make sure to tune in in two weeks to find out how their date goes!"

Eskel presses a button with his finger to pause the tape. 

_"Dad. Mum," Ciri says with a scowl. "How could you?"_

Yennefer is less easily cowed. _"What?_ It was a dating show. Your dad was hot. Anyway, it all worked out didn't it?"

Ciri ignores them both and plonks onto the floor at Jaskier's feet, cold disapproval emanating from every fibre of her being.

"We're your dads now," Jaskier stage-whispers into her ear. 

"I heard you emancipated from your parents at sixteen," Ciri says conversationally, not bothering to lower her voice.

Jaskier chuckles and ruffles her hair. "I wouldn't recommend _that,_ dear heart. It was a rough time. Your mother's right, it worked out, and we're all friends now. Are you ready to see the second part?"

"No, wait," Ciri interjects. "Did you meet again? Before the date?"

"The date was a week later," Eskel says. "It wasn't a first date for any of us by then. I knew - "

"Shush," Jaskier interrupts. "Spoilers."

Eskel shuts his mouth with a click and presses the fast forward button. "Ready?" he asks the room at large.

"Where's the remote?" a twin asks.

"This technology predates remote controls," Eskel says, grinning.

"It's because your uncles are ancient," Lambert says helpfully.

Aiden smacks his head lightly. "I'm that old, and you're not far off either."

"What?" Lambert asks, gaping in mock horror. "Since when? You couldn't have told me that _before_ we got married?"

"Shush, you two," Jaskier says, waving at the television. "Play, love."

Eskel dutifully pushes the button, and the tape plays again.

"Two weeks ago, we had some very interesting guests on the show, and things... did not go entirely according to plan," Tissaia de Vries says with an impish grin. "Here's a quick recap of what happened, and then we'll see what they got up to on their double date."

Snippets of scenes they'd already watched play again. There's the shot of Yennefer dragging her hand across the back of Geralt's chair, Geralt's eloquent "My hair. It's... long," heated gazes passing between the pair, and finally, Eskel and Jaskier kissing. Then both couples are shown walking hand in hand into the Winter Wonderland theme park. 

They start with ice skating. Geralt and Yennefer are perfect, an ice queen and her handsome attendant, graceful and strong. Jaskier is competent, but Eskel has never skated before and spends a lot of time on his backside. Including a lot of camera time. Yennefer and Geralt skate past wearing equally smug expressions, and Jaskier imagines stabbing them both. He helps Eskel up for the fifth time. "You want to try something else?"

"Sorry," Eskel says mournfully. "I've just never..."

"It's much easier when you learn as a kid," Jaskier says. "Those two look like they've had lessons, or - I don't know. Nobody human is really that good. Why don't we escape our guards and hide in the ice sculptures for a bit?"

Eskel nods his agreement, and Jaskier waves a mischievous-looking kid over, offering him some coin to create a distraction. He skates around the rink in the wrong direction, and when the shouting starts, Jaskier drags Eskel into a large barn-type structure. Inside is a series of magnificent carved and shaped ice sculptures, everything from opaque snow-like creations to crystal-clear ice art transparent as glass; there's even an explorable castle made of ice. In the centre of the building is an open gazebo-type shelter with a conical spire, and underneath, a bar, also made of ice. Jaskier pulls his winter beanie down over his ears, and Eskel draws him in for a hug.

They sit down in armchairs made of ice for a drink, and the cameras catch up with them a minute later, Geralt and Yennefer in tow. To Eskel's surprise, Jaskier makes room for the pair at the table.

"Look, I don't want to treat this like a competition," Jaskier says. "You two are obviously into each other, and good luck to you, and I really like Eskel. Can we just... start over? Without the drama?"

The rest of the afternoon is spent on different activities; they watch a performance together, then egg each other on to fairground rides and sideshow games. Yennefer wins Geralt a unicorn, and Eskel wins Jaskier a bear. Jaskier arches an eyebrow and opens his mouth, only to think better of it when he sees Yennefer watching him. He smiles and kisses Eskel's cheek instead, which makes him blush just as well as innuendo would have. Dinner is a calm affair, each making an effort to seduce their respective lovers and ignoring the rest of the restaurant in its entirety.

After dinner, Jaskier drags them all to a bar that promises karaoke, and much to his delight, discovers that Eskel can _sing._ Their popularity more than makes up for the disastrous ice skating attempt.

They're allocated a room each, but the cameras aren't shy about showing that only two of those rooms are used. 

The next day they split up, Eskel and Jaskier repeating the activities they enjoyed, or catching the ones they missed; Yennefer and Geralt doing the same. There's a distinct lack of drama, no doubt to the producer's disappointment, but by the end of the day, they've all exchanged numbers. Eskel discovers that in spite of the awful performance Geralt and Yennefer put on at the dating show, they aren't actually terrible people. 

Well, Jaskier is going to reserve his judgement on Yennefer. Someone so beautiful and smart and _dangerous..._ their compatibility isn't in doubt, however.

The episode ends, and Eskel forwards the tape again. "One more," he says.

"Now," Tissaia de Vries says in her most saccharine-sweet voice. "Tonight we have some very special guests. You all remember a little drama we had on set, two years ago today, where two of the contestants hooked up _on the set,_ leaving our guest date in the lurch? We'd like to welcome both couples back tonight, please give a hand to Geralt and Yennefer, and Eskel and Jaskier."

The audience cheers, and the four of them wave.

Without a word, Geralt drops to one knee in front of Yennefer, and opens a small black box. Yennefer extends a hand imperiously, and he puts a ring on her finger. She puts a finger under his chin, directing him up, and kisses him silently.

"I think we'll take that as a yes," Tissaia says, nodding at Eskel.

Eskel takes Jaskier's hand in his. 

"I'm not going to kneel, I want to do this as equals. Besides, it's murder on my knees. Jaskier this isn't the most romantic setting, but it is where we met. I knew, from the first words you spoke to me, that - "

Eskel's eyes tear up. He wipes at them with the back of his hands, but manages to continue. "I knew that I wanted you in my life. The last two years as I've gotten to know you have only cemented that desire. I love you, and I want to spend forever waking up next to you. Will you marry me?"

Jaskier dips his other hand into his pocket, pulling out a box at the same time as Eskel flourishes his. 

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Yes, Eskel. _Yes."_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to rank this up there with [A Wee Stalker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557248) for the silliest thing I have written, and it was just as much fun to write. Hope you enjoyed, yell for free in the comments ~ imp.


End file.
